


The five people who already knew everything that happens in Beacon Hills and the one person who didn't

by AstratheCatha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:03:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstratheCatha/pseuds/AstratheCatha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five people who already knew everything (and I mean everything) that was going on in Beacon Hills and the one person who didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The five people who already knew everything that happens in Beacon Hills and the one person who didn't

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first posted work. Not my first fan-fiction, but that will probably never see the light of day again. I do accept criticisms but only if they are constructive. I cannot know how to make my work better unless you tell me how to. And I always accept praise. And I even have cookies for those who do. Or brownies. Which ever he or she prefers. 
> 
> This work doesn't really have a beta. A friend looked at it but only pointed out that it had a bunch of spelling mistakes. She was confused who Booby Finstock was. So any mistakes are mine. 
> 
> I don't own Teen Wolf. Otherwise I'd imagine I would be richer and not worrying about post college life. It would also be horrible.

5 people who already knew everything (and I mean everything) that was going on in Beacon Hills and the one person who didn't.

1:

“Give it to me.” The short, clipped toes of the doctor filled the room as nurses rushed to stabilize the prone form the lie on the gurney. Although, not much needed explaining. Spotting the arrow, which, despite the fletching having been removed, was quite obviously an arrow, lodged in the teenage boy’s right shoulder. Deftly a nurse cut open the shirt surrounding the wound and saw black veins radiating out from it. Some of the nurses gasped, but most continue working, no one pausing for more than a couple of seconds.

“This is one of those patients.” The doctor simply stated to a nearby nurse, who already seemed to be making her way through the chaos in the room. When one of the other nurses finished applying small electrodes and other equipment onto the gurney, a fast pace beeping filled the room, the young boy gasping for air. Finally, the head nurse exited the room, running down the hall. Despite being a frequently used hospital, other doctors and nurses milled about the halls, talking amongst themselves and their patients. After all there was only so many people who could help at the time. There was nothing they could do. A middle aged nurse was walking down the hall, when the head nurse caught her attention.

“It's one of yours.” That was all that the head nurse said, but mamma McCall’s eyes darkened with fear and anxiety.

“One of my boys or one of my patients?” The other nurse simply nodded and McCall ran, seemingly in the wrong direction. Turning behind the nearby nurses’ counter, she grabbed a gray medical bag that was hidden in a corner out of prying eyes. Running into her biological son’s room, she sat the bag on a nearby trolley that had other tools for the emergency procedure. The doctor ordered the nurses out, although they went reluctantly, they were aware of this strange procedure. McCall pulled out a small clear baggy filled with ash. Words were drawn of the other side in neat black handwriting, which was unreadable on the opposite side.

Not bothering with gloves the nurse took a small handful of the dust and rubbed it on the wound. The doctor had previously taken out the arrow, and laid it on the table for the nurse to see. They both recognized the arrow. Backing away, both the doctor and the nurse held their breath as a light billowy smoke rose from the wound. They didn't let their breath go until the wound started to heal. With a deep sign, Melissa bandaged the wound, at least for appearances sake, and sat down in a chair that had been pushed aside. Half an hour later her boy woke up. “Mom… Was I hallucinating or did you rub ash into my wounds?” Scott asked groggily. Mamma McCall knew of course that the anesthetic would have worn off quicker than most people, and so her son was probably a little awake for the procedure, as much as rubbing ash into a wound could be called a procedure.

“Yeah, sorry about that sweetie, but that particular ash is the only sure of stopping that form of wolfsbane. On the bright side, being a werewolf means that it won't cause you an infection.” Melissa joked, trying to preemptively erase the tension at the admission of knowledge. Scott, still groggy from the wolfsbane and the pain, plus always a little slow, silently mouthed to words she had spoken. She could see when he made the connection as his eyes went innocently wide.

“Wait, you know about werewolves, mom?” His voice slightly fussy, filled with wonder.

“Scott, you can't be a nurse here for as long as I have and be friends with Talia Hale without knowing about the supernatural.” Her voice light with fondness. Scott still looked at her with wonder but seemed to settle, now that his big secret was out and his mom ok with it.

“But I do have one rule” she waited until she had her werewolf son’s attention. “I will not host any pack meetings. I do not want to cook for that many super powered, hyperactive, teenage werewolves, who have a black hole where their stomach should go.” Scott completely relaxed at her words and smile. But some dread still filled Melissa. She was going to talk to Chris about this.

2

Two people were huddled by in the corner of a hallway, giving small smiles to the pack taking all the space in Scott's recovery room. Melissa grabbed the sheriff’s shoulder to avoid some of the more innocent nurses that haven't learn that somethings are better worth ignoring. Eventually the couple might start dating, when the heartbreak is old enough to act on their mutual affection. But until then they will stay close friends.

“So what happened him?” The shariff said, eyeing his practically adopted son through his lashes, window, and the mass of people. It was… Surprisingly easy. He was worried. Melissa wasn't usually so secretive of there wasn't something more going on.

“An Argent arrow. And wolfsbane.” This caused the man to suck in a breath, his eyes flicking towards the pack. If Scott was a werewolf then that means that Stiles knew. Which would explain his showing up at crime scenes and the near constant lying. He should probably spill the beans about being in the know about the whole Beacon Hills being a literal beacon for the supernatural. Or was. It would make everyone’s lives much easier. Especially if Melissa already spilled her beans.

“I have a feeling I am about to start regretting the day after I became sheriff.” Said sheriff moaned. He remembered the day Talia walked in and sat the new sheriff down and explained werewolves, supernatural, and the whole shebang. Of course he freaked out until she flashed her glowing red eyes, and explained that the Hale pack always tells the sheriff because it was good to be aware of everything that happened in the town. Ever since, he had helped cover for the supernatural deaths that happened. Hell, his own son probably didn't know until his best friend/brother got bitten. He could probably trace back to the day that had happened.

“I'm going to go talk to the Argents about this. I tell you what happens, ok?” Melissa nodded and walked to the cramp room.  
After returning from a long discussion that totally didn't turn into an argument, he found his son on his couch, obviously waiting from him. John could see Stiles twitching in his seat. He had been waiting for a while.

“Dad, Scott’s a werewolf.” He blurted out suddenly. It was the worst opening for this conversation, Sheriff Stilinski had to force himself not to laugh.

“Yes, he got bit when you two went looking for the lower half of Laura’s body, correct?” He simply stated. But he saw that his son was not listening. He started explaining that he knows it is hard to understand, but there are all these different supernatural creatures out there, like out of a science fiction novel, with his arms going everywhere to prove his point. And a lot more tangents, but he had gotten good a cutting those out. Then he stopped mid-sentence.

“Wait, what?” His he froze for a moment and then started bouncing on his toes.

“Scott got bitten when he found Laura’s body.” The sheriff repeated.

“But… But…”

“Stiles did you really think that the sheriff doesn't known everything that happens in his town?” John said, putting stress on the word everything. As far as the sheriff could remember there wasn't a time when Stiles was completely still and quiet. He chuckled softly and headed up to his room to shower and let his boy digest the information.

3:

Stiles flew around the corner of the school hallway just after as the door the school locker room was pushed open. Still holding the door handle, Danny stared after the spaztastic kid, when a large thump resounded from the door. Slowly Danny opened the door to see glowing blue eyes and the wolf they belonged to. In less than a second Danny slammed to the door back into the omega’s face and ran after Stiles. However, neither human was match for the wolf’s speed and it soon caught up to them.

Cursing “this god forsaken town” and something about Stiles’ brain, he dipped his hand into his pocket for the spelled cloth bag he kept there. Turning around, he threw the bag dispersing the contents into the omega’s face. He didn't breathe in enough to kill it, or seriously harm it, but it was enough to slow it down so that Stiles and Danny could burst out of the exterior doors. Danny had a second to take in the scene before him, before planting his foot and launching himself to the side. When he landed on his back he saw that Stilinski did the same thing, granted with a lot less grace, before a black arrow flew by and embedded itself in the omega’s skull.

Danny was bombarded with questions ranging from “Danny are you ok?” from Scott, to “Danny what are you doing here?” from Allison, to “Danny what they hell did you throw back there?” That one was from Stiles. Danny put a hand up so he could breath and everybody took a step back.

“The more important question is: Stiles,” he turned to face the boy, “Why did you not have wolfsbane if you run with wolves?” This stopped everyone as they stared at him. It was Scott who spoke first.

“You have wolfsbane on you?” Danny signed at Scott’s confused expression. Who the hell decided to make him a werewolf?

“Yes, I always carry some on me, and before you ask I had it in a spelled pouch so the wolves couldn't smell it.” Several decidedly not human eyes flashed at him but it didn't faze him. He was used to wolves, thanks to the Hale pack, and knew that a wolf’s eye color doesn't always match up to their disposition. Peter, for example. And he knew all of these people. So that helped.

“Oh, my god! Can I have one? Can I make it, or you can you? Or do I have to special order it. I could hook it on my utility belt and be batman.” With a chuckle, the rest of the pack relaxed, trusting Stiles’ judgement on his threat level. But Danny noticed that Allison had not removed the arrow from her bow, despite removing tension on the string. But Danny understood that. She didn't know him all that well. Or at least what he was.

“So, what are you? Human?” Danny decided to take a page from his mentor’s book. Because as much as Danny could be serious as times, unlike a specific token human, he like to crack a good joke like the best of them.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” He said with a wink as he got up and strutted into the darkness. Ok, so he added the cheek and the strut. But he liked the way it made people stutter and do double takes when he was so obviously stereotypically gay. He chuckled as he heard one last remark from Stiles.

“Man, he is almost as bad as Deaton.”

 

4:

Coach Booby Finstock ran around the track on the lacrosse field. Yes, he yelled at Greenberg, constantly, but it wasn't his fault that the boy was stupider than McCall. He was also ok with everyone think he was lazy and never worked out. Even though he did. He just simply looked fat. As he turned a corner on the track, he saw a lone boy running out of the woods on all fours, probably running from… Yep. A one Mr. Scott McCall, who was also running on all fours. Coach slowed to a stop as the two boys passed, completely oblivious to his presence. After they disappeared from sight he looked at the state of the field, muttered two words and continued running.

“Damn werewolves.”

5:

Mrs. Verna Mason walked down the street holding her clutch in both hands, tight to her chest. She prides herself with her long heritage in this town. Her family has lived in this town since it was founded during the gold rush and nothing has ever chased them out. And because she lived in this town till her ripe old age, she has learned a few things. No, she would say she learned many important things. Like which bakery to buy her bread and pies. It was while she was priding herself on that fact, and having decided to go get some more of that heavenly Apple pie that her bakery sells, she was attacked by this rude man who was in desperate need of a shave and had glowing blue eyes.

“Where is Hale?!” The man said in a dreadfully rude tone. She tutted and hit the young man with her surprisingly heavy clutch.

“Don't be rude. You should go introduce yourselves at the police station like a proper young man, and the alpha or another member of the Hale pack will be with you shortly.” Mrs. Mason said, her voice properly chastising.

“Lady, do you know what I am?” The wolf said, looming over the old lady, who was not intimidated despite her small stature.

“Yes, I do. My family has lived in this town since its founding during the gold rush, and we have yet to be run out by a simple Omega. Now are you going to be a proper, good young man or will I have to punish you?” The young man simply shook his head, thanked her and said his good byes, in a proper, polite manner. Then the old woman, turned on her heel and walked away with the quick little steps of a proper woman, filled with pride. She was definitely going to get that Apple pie.  
Later that evening, a listless young man walked into the police station, calmly asking for a Hale. The sheriff, curious, called Derek and invited the wolf back into his office. Because it had to be a wolf. No one else asked for a member of the Hale pack unless they were wolves. The young man sat down on a chair, his eyes staring at nothing.

“If I might ask, what is beta doing away from his pack?” The wolf turned his eyes upward, still blank. He moved like he was on autopilot.

“I'm not a beta. I'm an omega.” He stated in a monotone voice, but making no other moves. The sheriff straightened at this. Why was had Omega asked, politely, for a Hale? Usually they kidnap someone or go on killing sprees until someone could give them the answer. Then the answer jumped to the sheriff’s mind.

“You talked to Mrs. Mason didn't you?” The sheriff asked expecting that to shake the wolf out of his state, but the man just nodded his head, still on autopilot.

“And you were rude and demanded to know where Hale is, weren't you?” Just another nod.

“Yeah she has that effect on people.” Just then Derek walks in, his eyes flashing at the wolf. When the wolf did nothing, Derek looked to the Sheriff for answers.

“When he came looking for you, he decided to demand answers from Mrs. Mason. At the name Derek cringed. All anger and hostility left his eyes, and he only looked on in pity.

“Well, I'll leave this to you then. But try to be gentle with the poor soul, he had a traumatic experience and might have PTSD.” The Sheriff said as he left the room. He could only nod as he was imagining how that encounter could have gone down. Snapping out of it, he lifted the poor wolf up and helped him out of the station and to his car. He felt that this was partially his fault and decided to get the rest of the pack to help the man, under the front of needing information from him. He got in the car and drove off, the young man still staring into space.

 

+1:

Stiles cursed their luck when a basilisk decided to interrupt the team’s practice. Of course, most of the team ran for cover, including Greenberg with some yelling and pushing. Well coach walked, shaking his head, but he always was a bit of an odd ball. With the exception of the Pack, and getting less surprising, Danny. After it was defeated, including a yelled call to Deaten, who was cryptic as always, the team came back onto the field, looking less ragged than you might expect.

“What the hell was that?” A voice from the team asked. Several people rolled their eyes.

“You lived here for how many years, and you still can't identify the supernatural?” Said another voice from the crowd.

“Wait, the supernatural exists?!?!” The first voice practically yelled. This was followed by a collective groan and a shout from Coach.

“Greenberg!”

**Author's Note:**

> Is spaztastic even a word? My brother uses it all the time, so it must be true (ignore the obvious logical fallacy).
> 
> So, what did you think? Yes? No? Maybe so? I promise cookies or brownies to whoever reviews. And I have been told I make really good cookies and brownies. Even vegans eat them, despite the milk.


End file.
